


How You Live On

by maydaykevin



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Gen, Mentions of past abuse, Nightmares, One Shot, Recovery and healing, all canon typical, gore and blood and suicide and self mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21764875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydaykevin/pseuds/maydaykevin
Summary: Kevin has a nightmare. Nicky helps where he can. It’s the little gestures that count.
Relationships: Kevin Day & Nicky Hemmick
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	How You Live On

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from [SUGA's Interlude](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdC3t26eaEc) & just a pre-warning the dream is gross and quite graphic, please be wary of the tags

Kevin didn’t dream. When he did, he remembered with startling clarity

He had a talent for working himself to exhaustion, pushing himself until the ache of his muscles and the burn of his lungs forced him into a deep sleep. It left no room for thoughts, or memories. It was why Kevin continued to do it. He was free for hours from the pressure, and expectations, and ghosts. There was no room for dreaming, the ocean desolate.

Lying on the couch in Columbia, Kevin was unable to stop himself from sinking.

It started off tame, a memory clouded in a dreamy haze. Kevin was sitting across from Wymack, his father discussing the upcoming game against the Jackals. Kevin was both listening and somewhere else, eyeing off the framed photograph of his mother high on the wall. His stomach twisted as it liked to do, Kevin pulling his attention back to Wymack.

It was then when he noticed the peculiar circle on Wymack’s head. He watched it grow, and darken. Kevin opened his mouth to say something when a bullet shot through the skin. It left a perfect hole in Wymack’s forehead, Kevin jerking backwards when his body hit the desk hard. Kevin’s limbs felt doused in cement, unable to do anything but stare at the blood pooling around Wymack in a morbid halo. 

There was a bark of laughter, Kevin’s stomach bottoming out when he saw Riko standing behind the desk, smoking gun in hand. He pointed the gun at Kevin, who was still unable to move, vision blurred with tears. His chest heaved, disbelief weighing him down.

Kevin waited for the bullet, staring into the barrel that had taken Wymack from him, the one person he wanted to protect, worth more than Kevin in every possible way.

Riko turned the gun on himself, in his mouth and Kevin shut his eyes.

He felt the sound in his bones. It rattled his teeth, Kevin’s only desperate thought of getting Wymack help. Carefully he opened his eyes, the scenery around him changed. There was only darkness, and a mirror, Neil’s presence beside him jolting Kevin. His face was free of scars, of trauma, bare and untouched minus the number on his cheek. 

Neil turned to Kevin, face blanker than Kevin had seen it in a long time. Kevin braced himself, no tense of the shoulders preparing him for Neil starting to scratch at his own face. He focused on the tattoo, Neil’s fingers scathing and creating those awful burns on his skin. The smell was nauseating, the bile coating his tongue overwhelming. 

The smile on Neil’s face wasn’t his own.

Kevin turned away, body shuddering with tremors. He was gazing into the mirror, unable to see Neil’s reflection. It was just Kevin, ashen with tears he couldn’t feel rolling down his cheeks. The queen piece was illuminated, in stark contrast to the sickly pallor of his skin. His body caught on before his mind did, knowing what was going to happen.

He twisted away but the mirror moved with him. Kevin was forced to watch as the burns on Neil’s cheeks formed on his own skin, destroying the queen piece with every disfigured circle—

Kevin’s eyes flew open. He shot up from the couch, the blanket that had been haphazardly resting on his body falling to the ground. He sat there for several minutes catching his breath, feeling sickly as the haze took an age to recede. Kevin touched his face gingerly, feeling the unmarked skin of his cheek and slumping against the back of the couch.

He was antsy, still running off the adrenaline of waking and his fingers twitched for a familiar ache. Kevin shook his head, stopping the thoughts before they could go any further. Andrew had hidden all the alcohol anyway, the only way Kevin would be able to find the bottles would be pulling the house apart and waking the man in question. His night didn’t need to get any worse.

Kevin pulled himself to his feet, reading the time through half lidded eyes. It was three in the morning. Kevin would not be falling back asleep tonight. For the first time in Kevin’s life he was thankful there was no training tomorrow. Wymack would’ve seen straight through him anyway, and Kevin wasn’t sure if he’d be able to face him so soon after the nightmare.

He moved quickly to the kitchen in hopes of leaving the image of a bleeding Wymack behind. He reached for a glass and the bottle of orange juice, going through the motions and almost spilling the drink all over the counter as he poured. When he was done Kevin held onto the counter, squeezing tight and taking deep breaths, just as Dobson had taught him. 

Kevin barely stopped himself from jumping when he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. He hoped it wasn’t Andrew or Aaron, unable to deal with them in the state he was in. He prayed it wasn’t Neil, Kevin unable to promise he wouldn’t vomit at the sight of his scars. Kevin touched his face again out of sheer reassurance, doing his best to ground himself in the present and not drift back into his own mind.

Nicky rounded the corner, hair mussed.

The words felt mechanical, “What are you doing up?”

“Late night call with Erik,” Nicky stretched and leaned back against the counter, exposing his mid drift with a slow scratch. His smile was slow, “He had a story about a stray cat that turned up on his doorstep, kinda reminded me of Neil.” 

Flashes of the nightmare appeared behind Kevin’s eyes. He blinked hard and turned away from Nicky, staring into his glass with intent. It took sheer force of will not to throw it to the ground, but he was too worried about the spray of shards to do so. If he injured himself he’d be pulled from the lineup until he healed, and Kevin couldn’t have that. 

There was the familiar shuffle of feet, and ruffle of clothing, Nicky appearing on his other side so he could see Kevin’s face. His dark eyes had softened, “You okay, Kevin?”

Kevin clenched his teeth, not bothering to hide the tick of his jaw. He thought of one of his sessions with Dobson, where she explained he was free to speak to those around him about his problems, that he wasn’t _there,_ that he didn’t have to hide from them. It was easy to say, harder to do when it felt like needles were sliding in and out of Kevin’s throat, stopping him from speaking.

He opened his mouth, tried once, twice, until he muttered, “Nightmare.”

“Oh.” Nicky drew back, just enough to give Kevin space despite still staying close, “Do you want to talk about it?”

There were more flashes, and more needles, so Kevin shook his head. 

They stood in silence, Kevin watching Nicky grab his own glass of juice. He sipped it languidly, watching Kevin over the brim of the glass. “Orange juice tastes different this early,” he commented, Kevin not knowing if it was small talk or an attempt at getting Kevin to elaborate. “Thought you’d be more of a coffee guy.”

Kevin shrugged, “I’m trying not to settle into old habits.” 

Nicky frowned. He looked at Kevin like he looked at him at Eden’s the entire night, face pinched with worry, surrounded by the temptation. Kevin caught it every time he glanced his way, a confusing blend of annoyance and relief swirling in his stomach. It had been months, Kevin was doing just fine, making it out of Eden’s without a single drop of liquor in his stomach was proof of that.

He recovered after a beat, finishing the glass in one giant gulp. Nicky washed the glass carelessly, resting it in the sink before spinning back around to face Kevin, “If you need to I can take the couch, you can have my bed.”

“No,” Kevin didn’t need to feel any worse, bothering Nicky would not be the cherry on top of the mountain of bullshit. “It’s fine, I won’t be able to sleep anyway. Just go to bed, Nicky.”

Nicky hesitated. He looked like he was going to protest, but he deflated as he often did whenever Andrew shut him down. Kevin decided he didn’t like being on the other end of that look. “Well, tell me if you need anything.”

Kevin counted his footsteps, tapping the numbers against his thigh. He finished the juice, not bothering to wash it before he collapsed back on the couch. He didn’t bother with the scratchy blanket, the cold sweat leaving him uncomfortable enough. 

He lay there for hours, thinking of plays he could try at training and of the recent Trojan game he had watched, anything to keep his mind busy.

Kevin thought of Wymack, alive and well in his apartment, ready to take on the day with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He thought of Neil upstairs, safe and asleep in Andrew’s bed like he had always belonged there.

He thought of Nicky fretting over him, of his sad eyes and kind smile. 

Kevin didn’t need his pity, but he was quietly thankful for his concern.

His next session with Dobson went as poorly as expected.

Kevin had tried to explain the nightmare in as much detail as possible, Dobson not pressuring him but gently persuading him all the same. He had cracked only a few minutes in, throat constricted and ears filled with static. Kevin hadn’t panicked like that in a long while, and he definitely hadn’t missed the terrifying, frenetic way it overcame him. It settled under his skin like an old friend.

Wymack had picked him up, eyebrows furrowed, letting a broody silence settle in the car between them. He pulled up outside of Fox Tower, turning off the engine and yet Kevin didn’t leave the car. A part of him wanted to, wanted to flee whatever conversation he was about to have and haul himself in his room. Kevin would have a cold shower to rid himself of the grime he always felt lingering after his sessions.

“Do we need to make this a more regular thing?” Wymack asked, staring straight ahead.

“I’m already seeing her enough.”

“I’m starting to think it’s not enough.”

Kevin felt a white hot anger surge. It was something accustomed that he held onto, that would burn any weakness from escaping his throat. “It was one nightmare, it’s fine.”

“Josten has fucking rubbed off on you,” Wymack dragged his hand over his face, looking incredibly tired all at once. He finally turned to face Kevin, the latter doing his best to ignore the image of a gunshot in the centre of his forehead. It wasn’t real. What was real was Wymack’s presence and his words, “I just want what’s best for you, Kevin. God knows you deserve it.”

Fire licked at Kevin’s eyes, stinging them, and Kevin swallowed down the lump in his throat. No matter how much time had passed it still rattled him that Wymack was his father, that Wymack _knew,_ and was doing his best to make up for all the years they lost. Kevin heard every word through a different lens, and he wondered if Wymack felt the same.

“Alright.”

“Alright to what?”

“We can…” Kevin swallowed again, focusing on Fox Tower. “I’ll see Dobson more.”

Wymack’s exhale was drowned by a vicious tapping on the window. Allison was standing there. She waved at Wymack, then noticed Kevin and sent him a derogatory gesture that was both at odds with her pastel pink dress and yet made perfect sense. Wymack huffed, ignoring her to place a strong hand on Kevin’s shoulder.

“You’ve made it this far Kevin, and I know you’ll make it the rest of the way... no matter how long it takes.”

His words persisted in Kevin’s mind all the way back to his room, rattling around and repeating over and over. It wasn’t unpleasant, Kevin preferred it to the gory snapshots of his nightmare. He threw his bag on the floor, almost missing what was on the kitchen counter in his distraction. Kevin wandered over, curious.

There were two large bottles of orange juice sitting there, loud in the monochrome kitchen. Kevin noticed the small note hidden between them, scrawled in a purple gel pen.

**Keep up your new habits, it’s a little healthier - Nicky** ❤

Kevin held up one of the bottles, shaking it and watching the pulp as it unsettled. A hesitant smile upturned his lips, Kevin not able to remember the last time he smiled over something that wasn’t exy related or at someone else's expense. It felt nice, different, welcomed.

Kevin poured himself two glasses, one for himself and one for Nicky after class.

If Nicky grew teary eyed when he noticed the glass Kevin didn't mention it, nor did Kevin mention the relief he felt when Nicky sat beside him on the couch, keeping him company for the night.


End file.
